


Less with Longing Than Wonder

by paradisecity



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-25
Updated: 2005-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradisecity/pseuds/paradisecity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And midlife is the moment between them, that frontier when it seems as if we could go either way, when our view is as good on either side. We are filled less with longing than with wonder."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less with Longing Than Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> The undertaker poet referred to is Thomas Lynch and the midpoint philosophy was taken from his novel _The Undertaking._

For Rodney McKay, there is little in life that cannot be reduced to a mathematical expression.  
  
He uses probability most frequently; it's what gets him through the day in a thousand mundane applications that form the irreducible whole of his life from many reducible parts. When probability won't do, he relies on comparative graphing: frequencies, means, proportions. When even that is too complex, the common denominator rarely fails him.  
  
It is one of the most irascible truths of his work that the tools he uses most are also the most basic.  
  
He likes the neatness of the expressions, the contained chaos of unknown variables that are bounded by the sharp slashes of an _x_ or the graceful curve of a _y_. He likes the representation of the ridiculous, the uncivilized, the uncomfortable in a simplified form that is less unwieldy than the concept it represents but no less representative of its truth.  
  
The many calculations he has completed throughout his life--those that were new, those that were old; those that were easy, those that were difficult; those that brought triumph and those that brought defeat--have proven to him that there is no truth so sacred mathematics cannot dismantle.  
  
Not even life.  
  
If birth is the beginning of life and death the end, there is, by mathematical law, a midpoint. There are a myriad of ways to define this midpoint, from the basic and concrete to the philosophical and abstract. Rodney has, with many hours' thought and contemplation, come to define it in the words of an undertaker poet he read in college, who defined it in turn as the point where the view is equally as good on either side, when one is filled less with longing than with wonder, when one fears less and worries more.  
  
It is, he thinks, a suitably discrete definition.  
  
The cacophany of the fight--the beat of pounding bootsteps, the bass of concussive explosions, the trill of flying bullets--coalesces in a single, beautiful moment of orchestral accompaniment while Rodney looks at John in wonder, worrying more for John's safety than fearing for his own and thinks, _This is it. Oh god, this is it._  
  
Then he thinks fervently, _Thank you,_ and grins crazily at John, who grins crazily back.  
  
They dive through the gate to safety.

\--------

It is quiet and solitary, the backbeat of the tide a delicate decrescendo as the night comes to a close. They pause in front of John's door, the light from within washing warmly over him, gilding him to Rodney's eye. There are moments Rodney wants to kiss him, to take what he feels and press his lips to John's, expressing his variable with breath. This is one of those times.  
  
But he does not. Instead, he simply lingers longer than he should, then says goodnight and takes his leave.  
  
In the moments before he falls asleep, Rodney graphs John, his constant and his conservation. The lines form with the same gilded illumination that graced John earlier, a golden reminder that Rodney is not to be greedy, that the second half of his life lies before him and John needs to be apportioned accordingly. He has what he wants, in John by his side, and it is more than Rodney had ever known he could have. He will respect John's inherent finity because the laws he has created for himself dictate it.  
  
When he wakes, it will be with a smile. He will know he is one day closer to death, that the road leads ever downhill, but he will know one thing he did not know before: the view on this side is infinitely better than the view on the other. One day, John will see it, too.  
  
It is more than enough.


End file.
